30 In Pursuit of the Trout 



streams, but I have found the method quite 

 suited to its clear and gently flowing waters. 

 One long, delicious day whiled away in the 

 meadows of this tiny river in company with 

 a college friend, who has since become an 

 enthusiast and an expert in dry-fly work, 

 will often slip into my thoughts when pon- 

 dering over fishing days and ways in many 

 waters. 



It was a beautiful May morning, just be- 

 fore the time when the verdure of spring is 

 lost in the uncalculated wealth of summer. 

 From the old-fashioned village inn we 

 crossed the road, and passed into the green 

 water meadows, through which the bright 

 water glided with an oily smoothness. 

 Thrushes were singing their loudest ; black- 

 birds fluted mellow notes from the topmost 

 branch of oak and elm j the nightingale's 

 song rang out from the hedgerows j butter- 

 flies, brimstone and orange tip, came out 

 in the early morning sunshine, and tortoise- 

 shells too after their long winter sleep. All 

 living things in the fields and woods were 



